Beyond the Cover
by NerdoOfTheFiction
Summary: The team works to find the killer in a case. It's mostly David and Colby. There's going to be 3 chapters. Rated T for fighting, cursing, and blood. Please review!
1. Chapter 1

"Get back."

David pushed Charlie gently as the genius lifted his nose from his notebook at the agent's command. A familiar black SUV pulled up alongside them and screeched to a halt. A very irate Don hopped out of the driver's seat and allowed a quick glance at Colby in the passenger's. Exhaling dramatically, he joined his boss outside.

The sun was bright and contrasted almost humorously with Don's mood. The green trees surrounding them in the park offered cheerfulness to a sorrowful scene. Three hours before, a little girl, nine, shot her cousin, twenty-two, with a rifle. Where did she get it? Undetermined. How did she manage to hold it? Unknown. Why did she do it? Incomprehensible. But this is how every case starts.

"Charlie, what are you doing here?" Don insisted.

Taking a second to conjure up a reason that would satisfy his brother, Charlie motioned to his notebook. David spoke up, "I brought him."

Don gritted his teeth and started to demand why he brought his younger brother to a crime scene but took a deep breath, stretched his neck in irritation, and simply asked: "Alright, what can either of you tell me?"

"Little girl's name was Sandra Christenson, nine years old, she was with her cousin on a routine park visit. Her mother is unreachable, but her father told us they come to the park every Thursday afternoon so she can play and the cousin can jog. Cousin's name is Jasmine Christenson," David accounted. "She works as a waitress at some local diner mornings and nights."

"Yeah," Don started walking towards the body on the ground, "What does the dad have to say about this?"

"Nothing," He trailed his boss leaving Colby and Charlie by the SUV. "He doesn't know how the daughter got a hold of a rifle or why she would kill her cousin, who he says was always around the house. He says he's devastated."

"Aren't they all?" The question was rhetorical. Don knelt beside Jasmine Christenson and, with gloved hands, moved her head to get a better look at the entry wound in her neck. How did a nine-year-old shoot so accurately? "Did you talk to her boss?"

"No, not yet," David was almost embarrassed to admit it.

"Well, you and Colby get on that."

"Sure thing, Don," David wasted no time in signaling his partner and walking to his own Dodge Charger. When Colby slid into the front seat, David explained, "Gotta talk to the boss."

"Can we grab something to eat, on the Bureau?" Colby asked innocently. David gave him a look of disbelief, but his partner just shrugged it off. "Just a question."

"Yeah," David pulled out of the parking lot wearing a grin, "Like you don't eat enough already, Granger."

"I think I take offense to that." But his mock hurt only made them both laugh.

"Keep your eyes open," David said after a moment, "I don't really know what we're looking for."

Back in the park, Don made his way to Charlie. "What do you think?"

Charlie disregarded his notes and looked at Don, clearly unhappy with the case. "I don't know, Don. I just don't understand how a girl as small as she is could support a rifle, let alone fire one."

"Yeah, what was she? Like sixty pounds?"

"The force of the shot would have done much more damage than just break her collarbone, I would think."

"Well, say it did. She couldn't have left the park that quickly, huh? Someone must have taken her after she did it."

Charlie knew Don was talking more to himself than to him, but he nodded hastily in agreement. Don continued, "But if the girl was working with someone, it wouldn't make sense. She's nine. So someone must have made her do it."

"The father, maybe?" Charlie suggested.

The agent was nodding his head in thought as he backed up towards his SUV, "Yeah, maybe. I'm going to go talk to him."

Don was already in the car when he finished his sentence and pulling out before Charlie realized it was David who drove him. The math professor watched powerlessly as his ride drove away and left him in downtown L.A. He couldn't help but laugh.

The diner turned out to be just that: a diner entitled 'Diner'. It was rundown but not unpopular. David turned into the last spot in the lot which had weeds growing from cracks. Cigarettes dotted the sidewalk.

"You sure you'd want to eat here, man?" David teased Colby.

"It's supposed to be my day off. I slept till nine, which is exactly the time Don started banging on my door. I haven't eaten anything. Yeah, I'll still eat here. I'd eat _anything,_" Colby's dramatic tone earned a chuckle from David and a "Sucks to be you."

David held the door for Colby so that he could laugh a little longer. The interior wasn't as bad as they thought it would be, but it still touched the line of unsanitary. The walls looked like they were once pink, the dark green booths were torn and sported patches of food substances, the breakfast bar was permanently stained with coffee, and the hostess looked as if she had just graduated middle school.

"Hello, there," She said it with pleasure, but Colby was taken aback by the rasp in her voice. What, students smoke that much in L.A.? "Will it be for two?"

"Uh, no. We're actually looking to talk to your boss," David held up his FBI badge and the girl's fear made her look even younger.

"Of course," She dropped the menus she'd gathered and motioned for the agents to follow her to the kitchen. "Is this about Jasmine?"

"You know about that?" David hadn't expected the diner to know yet.

"Yeah, everyone does."

Colby couldn't help himself, "Hey, how old are you?"

The girl smiled sensually, "You interested? I'll be seventeen in May."

Colby recoiled while adding under his breath, "Sure you will."

After that, David could tell the girl's fear returned. She led them into the back kitchen, then to a small office door near one of the many stainless steel counters. Without pausing, she tapped four times before pushing the door open herself. A heavyset man in a stained white tee looked up from his desk. "What's all this then?"

The young hostess stepped back to let the agents in so that they could flash their IDs and slipped away saying nothing. She did make it a point to brush Colby's arm on the way out.

"Mr…?" David extended a hand.

"Rhys," He took the hand and shook it firmly as he maneuvered around his desk.

"Mr. Rhys, I'm Agent Sinclair and this is Agent Granger. We've come to talk to you about Jasmine Christenson."

Rhys shook his head and looked down at his questionably clean dress pants and shoes. "It's a terrible thing. Do you know who did it?"

"We have reason to believe it was her cousin, maybe you know her? Sandra."

"That little girl?" Rhys head shot up and his eyes were bursting with disbelief. "You have got to be joking me. She's like eight!"

"Nine," Colby moved from behind David. "And yeah, we couldn't understand it either. That's why we came to you."

"You think I did it?"

"Well that depends. Did you?" Colby crossed his arms in defense to Rhys glare.

"No, sir, we do not think that," David cast a meaningful glance at his partner. "But we do think that you could help us out a little bit."

"What do you want to know?"

"For instance, did Jasmine have any enemies that you knew of? A boyfriend who came around often? Any regulars you get here that pestered her?" David took out a pad and pen from his jacket.

"Not that I can think of," Rhys looked from David to Colby.

"Not a single name comes to mind?" Colby tried to keep the frustration from his voice.

The manager crossed his arms and looked at the ceiling. "What do you want? A list of all the regulars here?"

"That would actually be great," David said with a reassuring nod. "But do you know if Jasmine actually did have a boyfriend?"

"I try not to concern myself with my employees' personal lives, but a boy about her age came around a few times. I don't know his name. Dan or Brand or something short like that. Look, I have a business to run," Rhys motioned to the door.

"Of course, Mr. Rhys, thanks," David turned and had to almost push Colby out the door with him. "What's with you, man? You could kill an army with that stare you gave him."

"I don't know David; he just rubs me the wrong way."

"Well he seemed surprised enough when we said we think the little cousin killed Jasmine, so even if he didn't like the girl, I don't think he made Sandra kill her."

Colby agreed reluctantly as they reached the car and pulled open the passenger door. As he slid in, he said sarcastically, "The homey office packed with food for starving agents is sure to brighten my day."

David laughed and pulled an apple from his pocket, throwing it at Colby. "Took it from that kitchen. I don't think anyone will notice."

His partner grinned, "Dude, you are an agent. I didn't even see you take that."

"That's how I do," David smiled as the engine roared to life. "You better enjoy that, Granger."


	2. Chapter 2

Colby and David walked into the office as Charlie was explaining something to Don. The genius wasn't holding a pen or standing by the whiteboard, but his hands were held together in thought. Don was looking at his brother skeptically with his arms crossed.

"Hey," David greeted them as he opened the door.

"Hey. Anything from the boss?" Don dropped his arms as he turned to face his agents.

"Nothing," David slid his hands into his pockets, "What about the father?"

"Conveniently, he wasn't home."

Don made a face and shrugged. Colby looked at Charlie, "Anything from the genius?"

Charlie jumped right in before Don had a chance to respond. "I'm thinking that the little girl didn't shoot Jasmine at all."

"But her fingerprints were found all over that gun," Colby looked at Charlie doubtfully.

"Indeed, but that doesn't mean she shot it."

"You lost me."

"Colby, consider the cover of a book. What you see could have absolutely nothing to do with the story itself. There could be a feather on the cover but it could be a story of werewolves. It's what's beyond the cover that matters. Just because her fingerprints are on the gun, does not mean she was the last to touch it."

"What, like whoever did was wearing gloves?" Colby was making the connection.

"Exactly."

"So," Don looked at his agents evenly, "A new theory, a missing father, missing little girl, and a missing piece: where was he keeping Sandra when we talked to him this morning?"

With an exasperated sigh, Colby turned toward the door, "Yeah, yeah, stake out the father's house till he comes home."

"You read my mind there, Colb," Don's lips crept into a smile.

David followed Colby out the door with no questions asked. Ah, stakeouts. Who knew how long they would last? "Hey man, we'll stop at McDonald's or something on the way there, okay?"

"Sounds good to me," Colby pressed the elevator button.

At around 5 o'clock, a silver Honda pulled into the driveway of the father's white house. All of the blinds were closed when the agents arrived and they had tried knocking twice. They checked every window and door but all were closed and locked. Sitting in the car for hours with fast food made them both hungry for action.

A tall man with graying brown hair stepped out of the Honda and looked around apprehensively. He tried to make his walk casual, but he failed. David noticed the man's hand shaking the keys. Once at the front door, the agents made their move.

"Mr. Christenson," David flashed his badge as he left the driver's seat, "FBI."

"Cue running," Colby muttered as the man gave up on the house key and bolted back for the Honda. Colby was the first to make it across the street, but the father was already sliding into the car. Colby grabbed onto the Honda's door and kept it from closing, "Sir, you are answering _every _question we have by running away."

His warning wasn't even acknowledged. The engine snarled as David came running with his gun in hand, "Mr. Christenson, turn off the car!"

The car squealed as it was thrown into reverse, Colby still hanging on. Mr. Christenson let go of the door as he backed up quick enough to fling him to the ground. With his partner out of the way, David fired and landed four bullets in the back windshield, enough to let the father know this was serious. He then aimed for the tires.

As the air escaped, so did Mr. Christenson. He ran forward, ignorant to the cars coming in both directions. David winced as Christenson just barely made it across, promptly stopping cars in the process.

"You alright, Colby? Let's go," David reached to help his friend off the ground and, after getting an affirmative reply, ran back towards his black Dodge.

"The man made me rip my shirt," Colby complained once in the car. He pulled at the chest of his dress shirt where he had hit the ground, revealing tears and dirt.

"Yeah just don't get blood in my car," David's joke was neutralized by the seriousness of the situation. He took a sharp turn into the driveway of a small white house where he distinctly saw the father run into. He and Colby were out of the car and hammering at the front door in a matter of seconds. "Mr. Christenson, open up!"

After counting to three, David shot at the door handle. The break in was complete with two of Colby's sturdy kicks. Guns ready, the agents proceeded carefully. The house was entirely blue. The walls of different rooms were different shades of the color. The sofa in the center of the living room was dark blue leather. The carpet was even a light tone of musty blue.

The living room to the left of the agents was clear, as was the dining room to the right. Nearing the kitchen, David was the first to notice the little girl standing casually in the middle of it. It took him only a second to recognize her and nudge his partner. Sandra Christenson. Where was her father?

"Hey there," David wanted to lower his gun, but feared showing his weakness. A nod from Colby told him it was okay, his back was covered. "Hey, Sandra, did your dad come through here?"

The girl was staring at him with slightly wild eyes. Her long dirty blonde hair caressed her shoulders and dangling arms. David was almost expecting her to jump at him. Her only movement since the spotting was seven blinks of the eyes.

A gun shot brought David away from his observations. Now the little girl jumped. The wildness in her eyes changed rapidly to fear and she ran down a nearby hallway and slammed a door.

His partner fired three times in return, each hitting a part of the father's chest. The man hit the ground, screaming insults until his breath ran out. David, sticking to procedure, cautiously walked over and checked the man's pulse. Nothing.

"Thanks," David looked at Colby. "Are you hit?"

"Nah," Colby's sleeve was dampened with a little blood near his shoulder. "Just a scratch."


	3. Chapter 3

"Sandra?"

There was no reply. No echo, either. Just silence. The agents did not know what to expect. Had Sandra really killed her cousin, who knew how dangerous she was?

So, guns ready, the partners made their way down the hall. David called out again, and was answered by a choking sound; a sob, perhaps. Colby motioned with his head to the door at 2 o'clock and reached for the handle. David shook his head and Colby drew his hand back. "Sandra, are you in there?"

No response.

"Sandra, there's no need to be afraid. We just want to ask you some questions. No one is going to hurt you. Please, open the door," David's voice was reassuring, but tentative. He didn't have children. Classes can't prepare you for situations like this. Should he be demanding? Soothing? Certainly he can't treat her as any other suspect. But he can't treat her as the innocent nine-year-old she appears to be, either.

"You gotta let us in there, hun," Colby was irritated and none too thrilled to still be pursuing a suspect with his arm on fire. Scratch or not, the bullet left a path across his arm that burned like hell. It took a tremendous amount of will to hold the gun up and steady. "Either you come out or we come in."

David shook his head at Colby, a familiar motion by this time, and listened for movement within the room. There was some. It sounded like she was moving closer. The door handle turned ever so slowly before it was pulled open to a mere slit. Colby was oh so tempted to throw the thing open.

Then Sandra appeared.

The frightened look on her face was enough to make David want to donate to every child's shelter in the world. She wore the kind of look that child actors just cannot imitate. The kind that tears at your heart and makes you go cold. She was the epitome of broken.

She left the door and retreated to her bed, throwing herself over it and burying herself in a plethora of pillows. Both agents hesitant, Colby proceeded first. "Hey, are you alright, Sandra?"

She didn't move from her hiding spot, but peeked from behind a pink pillow. Her eyes focused on his bleeding arm, but they were unreadable.

"Talk to us, Sandra," David inched further. He had no children. He was no expert in how to deal with this. Neither was Colby.

With nothing close to a response, David opted to call for assistance. He left Colby with the girl in the room and pulled out his cell phone in the hallway. Don was relieved to have found the little girl. Units would be coming soon.

Upon reentering the room, David stopped in his tracks. Sandra was up, standing on her bed, and moving towards his partner with her arms outstretched. Colby remained still at the foot of her bed. When she was close enough to look down at him, she squatted and looked at the wound on his arm. She seemed very interested in the bullet's trail.

How odd it all must have looked. The silence was overwhelming and the tension was thick. David was curious as to what exactly interested her—the blood or that her father was responsible?

She reached out to touch the injury, but Colby caught her hand and startled her. She immediately withdrew but did not go back into hiding. She looked hurt, but asked, "Does it hurt?"

Colby had to stifle a laugh at a question so obvious, "Yeah, it does."

"Why do you look like it doesn't?"

"I have a high pain tolerance I guess."

Sandra tilted her head and Colby reminded himself he was talking to a nine-year-old. Adjusting his sentence, he said, "It doesn't hurt bad enough to stop me from doing my job."

"Oh," She looked at David. "Are you bleeding, too?"

"No," the agent smiled reassuringly at the girl. "Are you?"

She shook her head timidly and he smiled again.

When the units arrived, a social worker took Sandra aside to talk to her. Colby sat in the back of an ambulance with his arm being taped up. David punched him lightly in the opposite shoulder, "Nice work, Granger."

"By 'Nice work' do you mean 'Thank you for being the real man and taking the bullet'?" Colby snickered.

"Yeah, not even close," The two laughed.

"Man, I am still hungry."

"I am not surprised. Do you only think about food?"

"Nah; I think about girls and sports, too," Colby winked. The doctor released his arm and he tested it out. Convinced, Colby hopped up and grabbed his jacket. "Are we done here?"

"I think Don's taking care of it," David looked around for their boss and found him with Sandra. He watched as she hugged him. "How does he do it? It seems like everything comes so naturally to him; like he knows all the right things to say."

"Yeah," Colby stretched, "I'm that way with women."

Guffawing, David barely choked out, "Alright, sure you are."

"Let's get something to eat, man," Colby smiled and took out the car keys. "I'll drive for once."

"If you drive, we'll both be killed. Can you even move that arm? It's bandaged to stiffness."

"Look at that—I'm so hungry I can't even think straight. Hey, you better pay, too."

"Watch it, Granger," David chuckled and slid into the car.


End file.
